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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26645800">Old Bedfellows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoscavalier/pseuds/chaoscavalier'>chaoscavalier</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(but not as you know it), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Maybe? who knows, Mentioned Lucilius (Granblue Fantasy), Nightmares, Non-Graphic Violence, Pain, Past Relationship(s), Past Violence, Pining, Post Versus Storyline, Post-What Makes the Sky Blue III: 000 (Granblue Fantasy), Promises, Spoilers for Granblue Fantasy Versus, You get the idea, enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers, i've been threatening to fill the belbubs tag with fluff and this is where it starts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:27:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26645800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoscavalier/pseuds/chaoscavalier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beelzebub begins to understand that having the comfort of another at his side might not be so far beyond his reach.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beelzebub/Belial (Granblue Fantasy)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Old Bedfellows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicereaper/gifts">vicereaper</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, after disappearing for nearly a year thanks to being caught in a bushfire, starting my first year of my masters degree, and, well, covid madness, I've finally gotten back to publishing fics again, complete with a brand new fandom to cry with and a new rarepair to cry over. It's been... a time, but these characters, this ship, and the friends I've met through the GBF fandom have picked me up and carried me through these hard times. I hope that a little bit of tenderness from two of the game's most malicious villains might cheer a few other people up, too.</p>
<p>Rami, I promised to write you a birthday fic a couple months back, and here it finally is. I hope it warms your heart the same way your friendship has warmed mine. Happy (extraordinarily late) Birthday!</p>
<p>Oh, and please leave a comment for me if you're able to, even if it's just key-smashing. I'd love to hear what others think of this unique little ship, and the rambling I put together while avoiding my uni work.</p>
<p>--</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sleep was a strange thing. For mortal skydwellers, it was a vital necessity, alongside food and water. For primals, it was more of a beneficial passtime, one that could be set aside for as long as was required. For an Astral twisted and changed by the power of primal cores and chaos matter, however, it was both unnecessary and rarely enjoyable, and certainly far from peaceful.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t the horror of the nightmare that woke Beelzebub so much as the pain, but both lingered as his eyes snapped open and his body jolted with a strained gasp. In the strangling space between awake and asleep, he found himself yet again lost in the red wasteland of Crimson Horizon, bleeding scarlet blood and black ichor from a hundred wounds, surrounded by a gruesome mire of bodies slain by the spear clutched in his weakening grip, clinging desperately to life as the armies of the Otherworld fought to drown him. Had he the strength to raise his head, he would undoubtedly wither beneath the glacial gazes of two familiar faces he could no longer tell apart, faces that were both friend and foe and yet neither, and something else entirely. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a familiar nightmare - too familiar - that had returned to him over and over in the rare moments he allowed himself rest, ever since he had been cast down to the bottom of the sky and forced to decide whether his path to power would meet its end, or continue to burn through all that stood before him. To fight and live, or surrender and perish. Though he knows where its end lies, he’s powerless to stop the vision of himself raising his spear yet again, dredging forth the last of his strength to cut through yet another onslaught, only for his limbs to freeze, his throat and mouth to fill with burning black liquid, as a shining blade of light pierces his chest and the very fabric of his being is peeled away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The moment the imagined blade strikes him the vision dissipates, returning him to darkness in an unfamiliar place. Creaking wooden walls, a bed beneath his weight, the unsettling sway of an airship; it took longer than it should have for Beelzebub to recall that he was aboard the Grandcypher, and longer still to remember why. How could he forget? Of all the turns his path had taken, that he would find himself here…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The thought was interrupted by a new, searing bout of pain, tearing outwards from within his torso, burning across the lines of a scar long-since faded as though it had been ripped open all over again. It was joined by a fresher scar, one at the centre of his back, pulsing with waves of fire that spread through his entire form. The two pains collided to set each line of muscle aflame, white-hot knives piercing through his skin from the inside out. Yelling was no use; even as Beelzebub opened his mouth in an involuntary scream, all that escaped him was a choked groan, his lungs crushed by the instinctive bracing of his body against the pain. The first wave lasted only seconds before it ebbed - not gone entirely, but enough that he could at least breathe again in short, straining gasps - and granted him a desperate moment of reprieve. It was bitterly short-lived, lasting only long enough for him to notice the icy sweat beading on his skin, before it gripped him again, its venomous talons ripping through his chest to seize and crush his heart, robbing him of any sense but agony and any thought but suffering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another groan escaped him, defying his best efforts to bite it back, and it took what pitiful scraps of energy he could muster to stop himself from spasming against the assault. This could last for hours, he knew - assailing him with wave after wave as the forces he had melded into his body tried to eat away at their very host; as powers never meant to coalesce were blended together in a hurricane that no vessel (immortal or otherwise) should be able to contain, and tried to tear their way free again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was no new torment for Beelzebub, but repeated experiences never made enduring them any easier. For the most part there was little he could do aside from waiting for it to pass and willing himself to remain conscious - for many long, isolated years, it was all he had managed to do. Only recently had he been fortunate enough to discover a far more effective method, and reluctant as he was to admit to needing help, even Beelzebub could recognise when his pride threatened to make a fool of him. Besides, it was likely only a matter of time before his throes and strangled sounds disturbed his companion.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the second wave had finally eased, he rolled himself onto his back with a grunt and, after a moment to brace himself, then onto his other side; hardly his most elegant manoeuvre, but one that was necessary if he wanted to put a prompt end to this latest episode. Once his head had acclimatised to the new perspective, not without some lingering dizziness, he opened his eyes again to the surprising sight of Belial sound asleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t Belial’s presence that surprised him. Strange and unpredictable as fate can be, one of the few turns Beelzebub had failed to predict was that of once again allowing someone to reach through his stubbornly designed armour and into what little remained of his heart - and of all people, he had certainly never expected it to be Belial, the Archangel he had once considered no more than a mindless, wretched beast. As long as it had taken him to grow accustomed to his presence, having Belial curled up next to him as he slept had become almost as familiar to him as his nightmares, albeit markedly more pleasant.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No, the surprise was that, for only the second time since Belial had sought him out in the depths of Pandemonium, he was actually</span>
  <em>
    <span> sleeping</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his features relaxed and eyes fully closed, his chest and shoulders shifting in the steady rhythm of true rest. It wasn’t unusual for him to doze, but it was typically light and restless, interrupted by even the faintest of sounds and leaving him no better off for having wasted his time with it. To see Belial like this, so uncharacteristically yet endearingly peaceful… Just the sight alone was enough to ease his taught nerves, and waking him suddenly seemed far too cruel. Stars knew, if there was any being in need of proper sleep more than Beelzebub, it might well be Belial.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though he genuinely considered leaving Belial to his hard-won sleep, Beelzebub’s rebellious body - or rather, the forces within it - had other ideas. This new surge was abrupt, flashing through him without warning. Distracted as he was by Belial’s sleeping, he wasn’t prepared for the sudden convulsing of his lungs or the shudder of his frame, and couldn’t bite down fast enough against the pained gasp wrenching its way out of his throat. He gripped at his chest, fighting desperately to still its heaving and keep any further groans at bay, but it was already too late; the warm touch of a hand against his trembling arm made him jolt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Easy, Bubs, it’s just me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The speed with which Beelzebub reacted to the sound of Belial’s drowsy voice was, even in his pained state, infinitely frustrating to him, but the effect was undeniable. His heartbeat immediately began to steady, the pressure crushing his chest began to ease, and though the trembling and the sharp sting beneath his skin lingered, the improvement was already significant. Even still, he could manage no more than a breathless grunt as he opened his eyes, quickly finding the scarlet gleam of Belial’s half-lidded gaze. The primal blinked slowly, his tired expression - or what Beelzebub could see of it that wasn’t pressed into the pillow - lowering slowly into a frown as he noticed Beelzebub’s shaking arms and straining limbs. That it took him as long as it did to realise what was happening was testament to how deeply asleep he must have been, but the pieces soon clicked together with a long huff.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t I tell you to wake me the next time this happened? Really, Bubs, I’m right here, aren’t I?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Beelzebub wasn’t quite able to answer, and thankfully Belial didn’t require a response; he simply shuffled himself closer, reaching one arm over Beelzebub’s torso and winding the other beneath him, latching himself onto the Astral’s broader frame. At first, each point of contact was a new stab of pain through Beelzebub, an icy spear through the fire of his skin, and he had to fight the instinct to wrench himself away. Once Belial was suitably nestled against him, seemingly ignoring the twitching and shaking of the body in his arms, he begun to make the delightful sound that had so surprised Beelzebub upon first hearing it, and that had become, loathe as he was to admit it, something akin to a craving for him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Belial </span>
  <em>
    <span>purred</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It began gently, radiating like a warm glow outwards from Belial’s chest, and grew steadily, spreading through his shoulders and arms and abdomen, seeping into Beelzebub’s body with the slow sweetness of dripping honey, cloaking him like a blanket of the finest silk imaginable, filling him with the gentle heat of springtime sunlight. The sound rolled through him, a sweeping tide that washed away the tightness with comfort, the agonised tremors with an easy rumble, the strained breathing with relieved sighs, until even the pain was reduced to no more than a faint burn. A matter of minutes was all it had taken for the purring to steady him, and, as he often did, Beelzebub regretted not having woken him sooner. In all the many long years of his existence, he doubted there was anything quite so wonderful as the sensation of Belial’s purring, and though he would never say as much aloud, he suspected Belial already knew it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm… Better now?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The vibration added a strange sort of rumble to Belial’s voice, but Beelzebub could nonetheless hear that the drowsiness had been replaced with his usual fond hum. Not the teasing sort of tone he favoured so often, but something almost genuine - or, at least, as close to genuine as Belial could get.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Beelzebub winced at the rasp in his own voice. “It certainly makes for… a useful ability.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Belial gave a quiet chuckle, nuzzling against Beelzebub’s chest - rather than painful, as contact had been just moments prior, the gesture was strangely soothing, and only aided in brushing aside the last remnants of the fit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Heh. Just go on and admit that you like it, Bubs. I won’t judge - I promise.” At Beelzebub’s huff, Belial chuckled again. “Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> certainly enjoy it. I just wish you’d woken me sooner. The thought of you being in all that pain all by yourself… How terrible...”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The brush of his lips against Beelzebub’s sternum was another surprise, but not an unwelcome one - he was as prone to tender exchanges as he was to vulgar language, and for all his provocative air, Belial had an undeniable sweeter side, and no hesitation about indulging in it during private moments. It was a side of him that had proven particularly effective at wearing down Beelzebub’s guard, at prying its way past his promises to never again let his heart be exposed to another, and though he’d scarcely call the connection between them love in the conventional sense, there was certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Something that, in each embrace - either heated or gentle, intimate or sweet - made Beelzebub feel unexpectedly… comfortable. Content. A calm he hadn’t experienced in longer than he could care to trace, long before the first primal was even a concept. It was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That it was Belial, of all the world’s beings, that elicited this feeling in him - had someone warned him of what had been to come, Beelzebub would have laughed at the sheer absurdity of it, and yet here they were, entwined in their gentle quiet, finding comfort in each other amongst an eternity of suffering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t wish to disturb you,” Beelzebub said finally. “It’s a rare sight to witness you in such an innocent state.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Oh, I wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> call it innocent…” His lips find Beelzebub’s skin again and linger, leaving a bloom of warmth in their wake. “How sweet of you to care so much for my well-being, Bubs. And here I was, worried you were still mad about our little blue not so long ago… Shame on me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Little blue’</span>
  </em>
  <span> was an interesting way to describe the events that had occurred atop Pandemonium that particular day, but considering their relationship was one of a more obscure nature, perhaps it was the most fitting. The two of them had a long history of working alongside one another, but also a history as enemies, and for all their deceits, clashes, and betrayals, they constantly found themselves being drawn to each other, time and again. For every alliance ended in bloodshed, every promise scattered to the sky’s winds, there were moments of genuine connection between them, of real affection that neither of them had anticipated. It was an endlessly spiralling game they played of dancing ever-closer together, but always with one hand on their swords, waiting for one to strike at the other; watching for who would be the first to break their latest in a long line of temporary truces.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While it had amused him at first, Beelzebub was beginning to tire of the cycle - of moments of gentle bliss being always laced with the threat of a traitor’s poison, of alliance and betrayal and alliance and betrayal. It was a pattern that was so very </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>, their unique rhythm, the very heartbeat of their interactions - hate and affection and hate - and yet, more than he ever had before, Beelzebub found himself wondering what it would be like for them to truly work together, for them to unite as a single force with a common goal, without the fear of being turned against. To surrender themselves fully to this strange string that had wound them together, and let themselves be wrapped in its tenderness. There would always be disagreements, always their little fights, but to turn his back to Belial with the knowledge that no dagger waited for him… Was such a state even possible for them?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All the while as he’d been reflecting, Belial had continued to purr, decorating Beelzebub’s chest with infrequent kisses, pressed so close against him that their legs had tangled together, and each breath Beelzebub took moved both of them in unison. To have this closeness whenever he desired it, a companion he could trust always at his side… So long had passed without such rare gifts that Beelzebub had convinced himself he would never be fortunate enough to experience them again, but perhaps he’d been mistaken. He reached his arms around Belial, drawing him in even tighter, and pressed his own lips against Belial’s ruffled hair, allowing himself to indulge in the thought. In response, Belial purred with renewed vigour, more of a rattle than a rumble; a sound of unadulterated delight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just as Belial’s purring had eased his physical pain - which had, by now, faded to as faint a whisper as the nightmare that had preceded it - perhaps his affection could heal the emotional pain, too. The two of them together, content, comfortable, happy… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Belial’s thoughts must have found themselves wandering down a similar path.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t it nice, being together like this?” he hummed, only just audible over his own purring. “Don’t get me wrong, I do find our little fights entertaining, but I rather like these tender embraces of ours, too. If I had to choose… Hm. I think I’d prefer to be here, curled up in bed with you. Don’t you agree?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was far too tempting to simply agree outright - suspended as he was in the delight of Belial’s gentle hold and the thoughts of what might be, it would have been all too easy to let go of his guard and sink into the depths of a dream. But Beelzebub would not be made a fool of by his heart again, not even for Belial and his wicked charms; for all the brightness of their possibility, the shadows of their shared reality could not be ignored. The bitterness of that understanding rang in his tone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will admit to it having its benefits, if only I weren’t waiting for the seemingly inevitable betrayal you so enjoy plotting for me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The purring stopped abruptly. Belial wriggled himself loose enough from Beelzebub’s hold to look up at his face with a hurt expression.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, come now… Last time it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> who betrayed </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, remember?” The mock hurt fell into a gentle frown. "You would miss me too much if I was gone for good, you know, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>knew you'd survive even without the Versus core. Being hard to get rid of is one of the many things we have in common."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Beelzebub huffed, meeting Belial's frown with one of his own. “As we both know only too well. How many times, now, have we tried to be rid of each other? And just how long, I wonder, until you decide you’ve had your fun with me and scurry your way back to Lucilius?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> have quite a bit of fun with you.” He annotated his words with the brush of his hand against Beelzebub’s hip, then along his side up to his chest, palm pressed to the scar that concealed his core’s abode. “I feel I’ve done a lot to help you, you know. We might not always see eye-to-eye, sure, but I wouldn’t say I’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>disloyal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, have I? If anything, you’re the one who can never quite trust </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a logic to his words, an irritating degree of the truth that Belial was so adept at wielding, and Beelzebub struggled to find an answer for him. At his silence, Belial allowed himself a grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do want to find Cilius, but only so I can keep an eye on him - and you might not believe me, but after seeing all the fun you caused when you broke the boundary with Crimson Horizon… I’ve started to wonder if your dream might be a little more to my liking than his. Either way, while we’re helping the little Singularity against this common enemy of ours, my search for Cilius is on hold, so I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>all yours</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His hand glided from its place against his chest upwards, drifting over his neck, to caress the line of his jaw, his thumb hovering at the down-turned corner of Beelzebub’s lips. </span>
  <em>
    <span>All his</span>
  </em>
  <span>… If Beelzebub could trust such an offer, how could he deny that he wouldn’t seize it? To have Belial all for himself… A foolish thought. Lucilius had always been the sole keeper of Belial’s attention - not that Beelzebub should even care, either way. If he intended to rebuild the realms, he could hardly afford such distractions as love.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was an old act, and quickly losing its lustre. Beelzebub was tired - soul-crushingly, core-shatteringly exhausted. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> the contentment Belial offered. The closeness, the affection, even the twisted, misshapen, blood-splattered wreck that might be considered love for them. He had been gifted brief glimpses of it in each and every touch between them, and with every taste he had come to want more… His eyes fell closed, his frown slipped away. Belial’s hand on his cheek was gentle, warm, dangerously enticing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“All mine, but only temporarily.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A low hum from Belial - a poor imitation of his sweeter, purring rumble.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe, maybe not. If you were a little more willing to trust me, I might just decide to stay here at your side. You’re a lot warmer than my other option, after all.” There was a sound of movement as Belial shifted against him, and when he spoke again Beelzebub could feel the breath of each word against his face. “I’m starting to like the idea of your new world, Bubs. I wonder what it would be like… You, standing above all as the Chaosbringer King, and me at your side, a loyal queen…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Queen, hm?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Beelzebub opened his eyes to find Belial’s just inches away, watching him carefully. Two pairs of gleaming red gazes, one crimson and the other scarlet, glistening with untold secrets and torments. What wondrous worlds could they paint together, in all those bloody shades?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose I could grow accustomed to having a serpent for a queen, if that’s what you desire.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When you say it so sweetly, how could I not desire it?” Closing the space between them was easy, a simple matter of Beelzebub tilting his head to meet Belial’s lips. The kiss was brief, unusually chaste for Belial, but nonetheless sweet. When they parted, Belial pressed the tip of his tongue to his upper lip, contemplating the taste with a thoughtful look; after a silent moment, the tongue retreated, and he nodded to himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” It had been Beelzebub’s turn to watch Belial, but the serpent remained as unreadable as he’d always been, even to him. Even after all they’d endured together. “Changed your mind, have you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Belial grinned, a new and unfamiliar spark in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, not at all. In fact, I think you might have shown me how to make this existence worth hanging around for. I’m not sure what it takes to earn the trust of a self-made Singularity capable of distorting the world through sheer will alone, but I think I’d like to try. If you’ll let me, that is.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took a moment for the meaning behind Belial’s gently spoken words to settle in Beelzebub’s mind, scattered shards of genuine feeling tumbling together to form a shape he hadn’t expected to see. Not just honesty, but an offering of it, and of much more. An offering of loyalty, of affection. Of love.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That it might be the latest in Belial’s extensive repertoire of tricks was a possibility too significant to overlook, but something in his gaze, in his tenderness, in his tone… It seemed so unlike Belial that it might just be true. That he would choose Beelzebub over Lucilius, chaos over silence, loyalty over servitude. Whether it was thanks to the weakened state the fit had left him in, or the madness of joining the two </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> singularities, or simply the ever-creeping longing to be viewed with the adoration and care he had spent so much of his terribly long existence without, Beelzebub was utterly unable to question the answer that had blossomed in what withering pieces remained of his heart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will allow it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A whisper, not so much spoken as exhaled, but Belial had heard it. His grin widened, and his purring resumed with a thunderous rumble. For once, it was Belial who found himself without an answer, though the sound trembling through his whole frame was sufficient enough, and he responded instead by winding his arms around Beelzebub once more, pressing in against him as though by pure strength alone he might bind them together, and Beelzebub returned the embrace. Even if it was only temporary, he simply couldn’t bear to deny himself these rare comforts any longer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No further words were spoken, and what questions remained would have to wait until they were better rested and of clearer minds. For now they could enjoy their shared closeness, their combined warmth, and imagine a fate where they stood with each other not just as allies, but perhaps as lovers, too, of equal parts tender and violent, with all the world brought to heel by their power. Beelzebub gave a last, weary sigh before they fell into silence - or what might have been silence, save for the ferocity of Belial’s renewed purring. To Beelzebub, it was the most delightful kind of deafening.</span>
</p>
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